You Should Be Taking Pictures
by thriceUPONaTIME
Summary: A photo album full of memories. Peeks in to the life of Simone and Annabelle after the movies' end.
1. The First Day of the Rest of Our Lives

_So I bet you think this is weird, right? Me making a photo album, well I have to have somewhere to keep the best of Simone's pictures. And so what if the first picture in it isn't 'technically' one of Simone's. It is one of Simone, I cut it out of a newspaper, the same picture that opened up the door to the rest of my- our- life._

* * *

A thin, brunette girl took the stairs that led down to the beach quickly, barely watching to make sure her feet didn't miss a step. She was far more concerned about what, or who, was waiting on the beach to care about something as mundane as steps. After all, how often was the love of your life out of jail? One would hope never but to Annabelle Tillman it didn't matter.

And there, standing highlighted by the setting sun's rays reflected off the water was Simone. Annabelle slowed her quick descent, just simply taking in the sight and knowing that her world was about to be put to rights. She had turned eighteen while Simone was away and she'd graduated from the school, every thing that had stood between them before was no longer clouding the picture.

She put down her bag and slipped out of her shoes. Annabelle padded quietly towards the older woman. "Waiting for me? Well I've been waiting, two months, three weeks, one day, five hours, twenty three minutes, and a handful of seconds for good measure," the brunette said nonchalantly, as if commenting about the weather or a slightly appealing book she'd read.

The blonde woman's back stiffened and her hands, which had been fiddling with something around her neck, stilled. She didn't turn, as if afraid that the voice was just an illusion and if she really did turn there would be nothing there.

"Going to look at me?" Annabelle asked, quirking up one perfectly waxed eyebrow, not that the object of her affections could see it. Annabelle ambled closer and wrapped her thin, toned arms around Simone's shoulders. "Aren't you going to turn around?" she whispered, her breath stirring the curly blonde hairs that fell free around Simone's ears.

"Annabelle?" came the quiet reply, almost pleading that this was not a hallucination, but this was too substantial to be a dream.

"No its Santa Clause," the sarcastic voice said, and Simone could feel Annabelle's lips form a small smile against the shell of her ear. Sarcasm was Annabelle's calling card, and in all the times Simone had pictured seeing Annabelle again she could never imagine the right sardonic remarks from Annabelle. This had to be real then, right? "So are you going to turn around yet?"

Shaking slightly Simone turned, almost afraid that this was just another vivid dream, taunting her. But there was Annabelle smirking a little bit, nose ring back in place, and arms still draped about the blonde's shoulders. This Annabelle was almost the same as the one Simone had first seen, smoking while waiting with her bags in front of the school. It was this same Annabelle who had ghosted through Simone's dreams while they had been apart.

"You play with those beads a lot," Annabelle observed, nearly mimicking a conversation they'd had so long ago.

"It's a nervous habit," Simone replied. She still grasped the tiny Buddhist prayers beads in her hand.

"Do I make you nervous?"

"No," Simone said, here she deviated from the script they had been rereading. Then Simone pulled the younger girl in to an embrace, pressing her lips against the ones that had made hers long for them. She tangled her fingers in Annabelle's hair, it still smelled of oranges and cinnamon as it had before.

It was a sweet kiss not one of lust, not yet any way. When the pair separated for air Annabelle did not withdraw but moved closer to lay her head on Simone's shoulder. "So you did miss me."

"I didn't know. What if you weren't coming? What if you still wanted me? What if your mother wouldn't let you come?" Simone asked, her voice shook a little as she voiced the worries that tormented her all this time. And some tears escaped the corners of her eyes.

"Of course I'd come. Of course I want you. And having a lesbian daughter raised my mom in the polls, I think she'll survive," Annabelle said gently as she whipped the tears off of Simone's cheeks. "I promised you that everything would be alright, didn't I? Well I never make a promise I can't keep," Annabelle said, pulling Simone back in to a kiss, this one more heated than the first.

The perfect couple, a perfect sunset on a perfect beach, and a perfect kiss. A perfect fairytale ending? No. This was only the first day of the rest of their lives.

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Hope you guys liked this. And I hope the little 'Annalogue' in the beginning didn't confuse you when it went to a different POV. Wow, I'm a funny girl 'Annalouge' I'm amazing, I should go on a tour to bring my comedic talent to the masses.

Thanks for reading,

thriceUPONaTIME


	2. The Highlights of Life

_I love this picture. It is just of me but you can see Simone's hand. She has a lock of my hair wrapped around one finger. That was the day that Simone found out that I dye my own hair. I think she might have thought that my hair was naturally reddish-brown._

* * *

Annabelle sat on the couch, legs stretched out along its length. She lazily flipped a coin across her fingers, an interesting little trick she had learned at her first boarding school. Annabelle had done far more work than she had intended today. Having lived in this house with Simone for about three weeks you would think Annabelle would have realized that the bathroom's window was decorative and not meant to be opened.

So while Simone was out taking pictures for the day Annabelle decided to touch up her dye job, her roots were beginning to show. Simone had taken Annabelle's advice of making 'a career change' and was now taking pictures. Her pictures amazing and in high demand, of course maybe a little of the popularity could be attributed to curiosity over the scandal which had been splashed across the papers for the last handful of months.

So Annabelle had dyed her hair. Beyond her family very few people knew that Annabelle's natural hair color was a dirty blonde color. She'd been dyeing her hair for years. She had worked up from the purple streak at thirteen to dyeing her hair a nice auburn with a few blonde highlights.

It was simple enough to actually dye her hair, but making the smell leave was another thing entirely. Annabelle had reached to open the window only to be met with glass that would not yield. Having no other option Annabelle had turned on the small fan in the bathroom, but those did not do much good when they worked properly. There was no doubt that this fan wasn't working too well, since the sound was less fan like and more like the wheezing of a person with asthma.

So Annabelle decided she would open the sliding glass doors, tempt in a breeze. But today was the first time that no hint of wind could be felt. Even the ocean was moving languidly, the tide creeping with no extra push from the wind.

To clear the smell out of the bathroom a real fan would be needed. So Annabelle hunted one down, checking under things, behind stuff, in cabinets, hidden behind boxes in a closet. This was exactly where Annabelle found the fan, behind a small, but very heavy, vacuum cleaner and a box that was coated in dust. The fan itself might have been older than Annabelle, judging by the clothes the people on the box were wearing.

So the newly re-dyed brunette set up the fan on the lip of the tub. And the fan did work, pushing some of the smell of the dye out of the bathroom. The fan was very loud but it worked so Annabelle couldn't complain too much.

That was the way that Simone found her house when she got there, greeted by the loud buzzing from the fan and a whiff of ammonia in the air. "How was your day?" the blonde asked the younger girl who was still draped over the couch, head leaning against the arm nearest Simone. Simone placed a kiss in Annabelle's hair, but the girl's hair didn't smell the same as it usually did. Unable to put her finger on the smell Simone went back to the hall to put her things down.

Annabelle shrugged and replied, "Not too bad." Then she contemplated the small stain on her arm. "Do you have any wipes or rubbing alcohol?" Annabelle asked, leaning her head back over the armrest to look at the, now upside down, blonde.

"Top shelf of the linen closet, why?" Simone asked setting her keys in the bowl on the little table near the door. The older woman settled her purse on the mounted wall hook, watching Annabelle rummage in the closet before withdrawing the rubbing alcohol and a washcloth.

Annabelle sat back on the couch, this time with her feet tucked under her body. Pouring some rubbing alcohol on the washcloth and putting the bottle on the coffee table in front of her Annabelle simply said "I got some dye on my skin."

"What?" Simone asked, coming to sit on the couch beside Annabelle, camera still swaying from the strap around her neck. "How did you do that?"

"I was dyeing my hair," Annabelle clarified, concentrating on rubbing the dye off her skin. Simone looked at the girl's hair and did not see anything different. Annabelle looked up from the diminished splotch of color on her arm to catch Simone looking.

"I had to touch up my roots. You didn't think this was natural did you," Annabelle asked with a small smile playing across her lips.

"I didn't think about it really."

"Nope it is all dyed. I have boring hair genes, this is my most recent style," the girl explained, still smiling at Simone.

"Recent?" Simone asked with a smile of her own, "Your hair was like this when I met you."

"Well, relatively recent. I've been dyeing my hair for about five years so, yeah pretty recent," Annabelle said. She imagined what the look on Simone's face would have been if she'd done something vastly different to her hair.

"Well let me take a picture?" Simone asked, raising her camera and snapping off the protective lid.

"Why, it's the same as it was before," Annabelle asked with a slight whine, just to make trouble.

Simone lowered the camera slightly and twining one streak of blonde around her finger said, "Because I like it."

"Fine," Annabelle said through a smile as Simone snapped the picture.

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So I hope you all like this bit. It was my first real chapter dealing with the story behind the photo. Comments welcome, and I'd love suggestions of what other kind of pictures should form chapters. If I use your idea you'll get some credit.

Thanks for reading,

thriceUPONaTIME


	3. Different Sides

_I don't remember this picture. Well I remember it, vividly, but I don't know exactly when it was taken. This was during our first real fight; neither of us spoke to each other for almost a week. But some where in that time Simone must have taken this picture of me, sitting on the beach. I wasn't looking at the designs I was scribbling in the sand just frowning at the surf.

* * *

_

"No I don't want to talk about," Annabelle said, stalking towards the kitchen to put distance between herself and the argument.

Simone followed Annabelle and said sternly, "Annabelle we need to talk about it. You need to go to college."

"I don't need to and I'm not going to," Annabelle said leaning against the counter as she crossed her arms defensively. "I don't want to leave, I told you already."

"And I told you there are schools around here, and then you don't have to leave," Simone told the angry girl in front of her.

"No, Simone. I. Am. Not. Going," Annabelle said making each word forceful.

"You need to go to college and get an education," Simone said reiterating her point. "As much as I love you and love having you here, you cannot spend your whole life playing guitar on the couch Annabelle. You are smart, you should apply yourself."

"Stop it! You aren't my teacher any more Simone! Don't give me that bullshit!" Annabelle yelled. The silence following the outburst the kitchen rang with silence, neither party ready to back down. Annabelle stared at Simone, eyes smoldering, and Simone stared back.

Annabelle huffed and spun out of the little kitchen. She opened the glass door open and after stepping out on to the deck Annabelle slid it shut forcefully. In the dusk outside the only light came from the lighter and then the end of a lit cigarette.

Simone stared after the girl for a moment or two before turning towards the remains of what had been a nice dinner. She snapped on rubber gloves to make a dent in the mountain of dishes.

That was the beginning of a near week of silence. The days progressed naturally; it was almost like watching a muted movie but one that was slightly off from the regular version. The pair shared the same bed but they did not lie together, each curled up on opposite sides of the bed. Annabelle spent her days sitting on the beach or defiantly playing guitar on the couch. Simone went out every day to take pictures, but the quality of her work was suffering.

Both women were too stubborn to apologize and too convinced that they were right to even concede that the other had a point. So the silence began to drag. Each moment feeling like hours and each day almost a life time.

It was on the fifth day of the nearly unbearable silence that Annabelle and Simone parted ways after sharing a, silent, meal. Instead of following her ritual of clearing away the dishes Simone picked up her camera and went out on to the small back porch. Annabelle was not there but Simone could see her nearby on the beach.

This was the sight that made Simone crack. Annabelle would not give up, she was very determined, as Simone should have remembered from the chase. There was no way Annabelle would give in first, so she would apologize and let Annabelle do what she wanted to do.

Even when they were arguing Simone loved Annabelle. The dainty, skilled, fingers that played in the sand. The full lips that were twisted in to a small frown. The smoldering eyes that Simone could not see right now. This is what she wanted to capture with the picture.

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Sorry that this isn't the happiest chapter but it is what wanted to be written. I have another chapter that might be a bit more up the Valentine's Day alley. And if you love the story let me know. Writers love reviews.

Thanks for reading,

thriceUPONaTIME


	4. Merry Christmas

_Our first Christmas together. Maybe a handful of days before Christmas I was scheduled to play at a little café. I brought Simone along because I know how much she likes hearing me play. I also played a special song for her. The picture is simple but that makes it unique, just my guitar and I, in the middle of a song.

* * *

_Simone and Annabelle sat in a small booth by themselves. Annabelle was a little jittery, not because she was performing, which is what Simone thought, but because she had a surprise up her sleeve.

When the manager behind the counter gave Annabelle a nod she nodded back. "You'll do fine," Simone said, thinking Annabelle needed reassurance.

Annabelle picked up her guitar and gave the cocky grin of hers. "I know," she said. Annabelle took her seat on the stool in the front of the café. Right now the place wasn't very full but it was still early. "I'm Annabelle and I'm going to be playing some Christmas songs for you tonight," she said as a simple intro, "Later I will be taking requests."

Simone was here to just enjoy herself. She'd brought her camera, to which Annabelle had rolled her eyes. But Annabelle and taking pictures were the two very good things in Simone's life, why not mix them. And Simone did, taking pictures of Annabelle playing, the customers enjoying the Christmas carols.

Annabelle had played through a few religious songs but mostly kept to winter themed and the upbeat radio Christmas songs. Finishing All I Want For Christmas, Is You, during which she had shot meaningful looks at Simone, Annabelle addressed the audience again, "I hope everyone is enjoying themselves but I would like to play a song I wrote for a very special person."

Annabelle lowered her head over the guitar again before beginning to pick the chords of a song that was very familiar, at least to Simone. "The space between what's wrong and right. You will find me waiting for you," Annabelle sang, and the memories flooded back. The looks that Annabelle used to give Simone, the barely concealed innuendo, and the tension in the air whenever they spoke, let alone touched. All of the things that Simone loved about Annabelle, which had made her last semester teaching at St. Teresa's the most interesting.

"Cause I know, that you know. You're all over me now. And it's clear, you will show, and your curtains will go. But if your heart is cold, my sheets are warm. I will shelter you, all through the storm. I will shelter you, all through the storm." Even before the chorus had ended Annabelle had entranced not only Simone, but the audience as well.

"The space between what's wrong and right. You will find me waiting for you," Annabelle finished, letting the last note quaver in the air. And for a moment it seemed as if no one was breathing, not wanting to shatter the moment. When they finally seemed to come out of the spell Annabelle had woven the audience applauded.

This time the song was not played to win Simone over. This time it was telling Simone how much she meant to Annabelle. It would have been impossible to keep that mood up so Annabelle went back to Christmas songs, not wanting to kill the mood so she changed it instead.

After another hour, as closing time approached, Annabelle addressed spoke to the assembled people, "I hope everyone has enjoyed my music tonight. I hope no one minds that I finish with a song for someone special." The crowd was shot through with curious mutters about who this girl was singing to. Some even turned in their chairs to look for the boy that held this girl's heart, not knowing that the woman was sitting there in the back of the café, camera in hand.

Annabelle had heard a song on the radio some weeks before. It was almost perfect for describing how she felt about Simone. It was too much pop to be her usual style but it still fit. "Feels like I have always known you. And I swear I dreamt about you all those endless nights I was alone. It's like I've spent forever searching; now I know that it was worth it. With you it feels like I am finally home."

Annabelle's singing wove a spell over the audience. "Falling head over heels, thought I knew how it feels. But with you it's like the first day of my life." Annabelle looked up to briefly catch Simone's eyes before segueing in to the chorus, "Cause you leave me speechless when you talk to me. You leave me breathless, the way you look at me. You manage to disarm me. My soul is shining through. Can't help but surrender, my everything to you."

As Annabelle started the next verse Simone felt her heart give a little squeeze. She hefted her camera to capture Annabelle's musicality and the song that Annabelle was singing for her.

* * *

So I hope this is a little happier for you. But I had to write the last chapter, life isn't always gumdrops and smiles. Do you like it? Do you love it? Do you want more of it? Well you have to wait. Anyway, the songs I used in this chapter don't belong to me (even if I wish they did). They are All Over Me (Lindsey Harper (which you guys should know if you watched the movie)) and Speechless (The Veronicas). The Veronicas song was stuck in my head and begging to be used.

Thanks for reading,

thriceUPONaTIME


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